


A Door Full of Stars

by rael_ellan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky has issues he needs to sort, Character Study, Gen, M/M, Stalking?, Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 10:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5124590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rael_ellan/pseuds/rael_ellan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve likes people who make the first move. He doesn't like to push people into things, not if they don't already want it. Sure, he'll offer an olive branch, maybe even a whole tree, but he's not just gonna haul you up into it unless you reach out a hand and ask. </p>
<p>James isn't really sure why it feels wrong. So he watches and waits, and the world turns on around him.</p>
<p>The world starts to turn inside him, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Door Full of Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently character studies is what I write for Bucky. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Steve likes people who make the first move. He doesn't like to push people into things, not if they don't already want it. Sure, he'll offer an olive branch, maybe even a whole tree, but he's not just gonna haul you up into it unless you reach out a hand and ask. 

So when he starts to actively search for Bucky Barnes, tracking him down and rooting him out every spare chance he gets, it just feels _wrong_. 

At the time, James isn't really sure why. It's just a feeling, one of those new, old things ticking over in the back of his mind, but it takes hold like a fever and won't let go. It runs around his brain, haunting every glance in the mirror, every rainy night and sunny day, alongside a series of repeating numbers and the sick sensation of falling.

So he waits. He sits back and watches Steve as Steve looks for him. He watches Steve tear through Hydra bases, ripping them apart for any hint of a lead, the terror that his fury brings. He watches Steve spar with Nat, snarking and laughing and throwing one another to the ground, their forms in motion almost as familiar as his own, then turn as one to drag a laughing Sam Wilson out of the sky and into a heap on the ground. He watches him hunker down in the evenings out in the wilderness by a meagre campfire with what was probably a god-awful cup of coffee, and roll out of bed with a groan when his flat’s glitchy fire alarm went off at three in the morning. He watches as he's recalled to aid the Avengers, leaving Wilson to carry on the search alone. He never watches the Falcon quite as closely as he does Steve and Nat, though he's never quite sure why. He's intriguing, no doubt about that, but he doesn't call to Bucky in quite the same way. 

One night, Steve comes home from some backwater town - saving the world again, not that James was following _that_ closely, really - and Nat and Wilson arrive within minutes of each other to keep him company. She has a bruise on her face, from her left temple to the bridge of her nose and up into her hairline. Wilson’s limping, grimacing at every step as he slumps into Steve’s favourite chair, but James isn't really watching him.

Steve and Nat are in the kitchen, talking. They aren't looking at each other, are barely moving their mouths at all, but he knows they're saying something important because they're leaning into one another, angled together even as they stand apart. They move in sync, now; weeks and months of training paying off at exactly the wrong time. They're both staring at the counter top, muttering confessions while Wilson chooses a film in the next room. 

Stevie used to stand like that. The small, gaunt Stevie in the back of his head, who still looked up at him through long lashes and came home with broken fingers from a beating in some alleyway. The Stevie who used to argue till he was blue in the face that he was fine, that he didn't need Bucky to stay in and look after him because… Because…

They move. He isn't close enough to see who makes the first move - probably Nat from the way they're standing, her hand on his shoulder, his eyes still fixed on the ground - and then they're embracing. Nat pulls Steve close - and it is Steve, now, all big and grown up - trips him forwards like they're still training and wraps her arms around his waist. He pauses, hesitates, freezes, for _just_ a moment, and then he hugs her back. He buries his face in her shoulder and clenches his fingers in the back of her shirt and they stand together, swaying in the kitchen. 

James _aches_.

What for, he doesn't really know. The contact, perhaps. It's been so _long_ , he's sure, since he trusted anyone enough, and it's so _tiring_ watching his own back. 

But it's more than that.

It's _Steve_ he misses. His scent, his smile, his God-awful jokes. He misses dumb moments at dances that he can only half remember and curling up side-by-side for warmth as children, as flat-mates, as brothers in Germany, with rain clouds building above their head.

He misses all of it and none of it, everything he's lived and everything he's never known, and the sudden wave of it makes him dizzy.

Wilson says something from the other room and breaks the spell. Steve and Nat break apart, smiling at one another easily, innocently, and start to bustle about, grabbing snacks. James watches them and then turns away, abandoning them for his own bunk in his own ratty apartment in the depths of Brooklyn, just a street or two away.

He waits.

He stays away for a few days after that. Something’s shifted in his mind, shattered perhaps, and words and moments and memories are all starting to align themselves in the wrong order. It's driving him _insane_. His own voice echoes around his skull, ‘you'll feel better in the morning, huh, Stevie? You'll feel better once you've got some sleep.’ Stevie isn't around to hear it, so Bucky takes his own advice. 

There's a part of him, not quite so hidden, that wants Steve to come find him now, to come roaring in, the Avenging Angel he seems to have grown into, and wrap his wings around him, help him sort the screaming into sense, but it doesn't happen. 

No matter how he's changed, Steve and Stevie really aren't that far apart. He doesn't like to push people into things. He'd rather wait until Bucky’s ready, until he wants Steve’s help. 

But Bucky and the Soldier aren't that far apart, either, and something still feels stuck. There are memories missing, key points in both their lives, and he can't trace his own story without them. Until he can do that, James Barnes can't trust Steve Rogers. He can't reach out a hand to ask for help, or even to try and climb on his own. 

No matter how much he wants to.


End file.
